Katherine Heaton
by thelastsarahbender
Summary: Katherine Heaton's last day alive.


**Just in case anyone doesn't know what this is: Katherine Heaton was the girl Chance Claybourne's father murdered. The Virals found her bones on Loggerhead Island and solved the mystery of her disappearance.**

* * *

 _Ri-i-i-ing! Ri-i-i-ing! Ri-i-i-ing!_

Katherine Heaton groaned, slapping at her alarm clock until it shut off. Climbing out of bed, squinting against the bright sunlight, she made her way to the bathroom. Brushed her teeth. Splashed cold water onto her face, trying to wake up a little.

She pulled on a ratty pair of jeans and a paint-splattered tee. Slipped on muddy sneakers. Tied her long brown hair back. No makeup, no accessories, no effort to look halfway decent. No one was going to see her except for the wildlife on Morris. When she got back, she would shower before lunch with Abby. _Which reminds me..._

Katherine went to the kitchen. Picked up the phone and dialed Abby's number.

Abby's mother picked up. "Hello?"

"Hi, Mrs. Quimby, it's Katherine. May I speak to Abby?"

"Sorry, honey, she's still asleep. Would you like for her to call you back later?"

"No need. Please tell her that I might be late for lunch. But I have _big_ news about our project." _Not just big. Enormous. Colossal. I found bald freaking eagles!_

"I'll let her know. Is there anything else?"

"Nope, that's all," Katherine said. "Thanks so much!"

"Bye." The line disconnected. As Katherine was pouring herself cereal, Sylvia came in, wearing neatly ironed slacks and a crisp white blouse, standing at five foot one in her flat shoes. Though they weren't actually related, Katherine was nearly the same height, barely an inch taller. Unlike her bony aunt, Katherine was a little pudgy, those extra ten pounds refusing to come off.

"Morning, Aunt Syl," Katherine said through a mouthful of Cheerios.

"Chew and swallow," Sylvia scolded, kissing the top of Katherine's head. "What are you doing today?"

"I'm working more on my project, then Abby and I are grabbing lunch at that burger place on 27th. I should be home by dinner."

"See that you do. It's spaghetti night."

"Awesome." Katherine crossed to the sink and rinsed her bowl.

"Make sure that you park correctly this time," Sylvia warned. "I don't want to hear about you getting fined again."

Katherine shook her head. "There's a lot by the Ripley Point docks. I'll park there." Shrugging on her jean jacket, she gave her aunt a quick hug. "See you tonight."

"Goodbye, sweetie."

Katherine slung her knapsack over her shoulder and headed outside, then nearly jumped out of her skin. A sleek, dark car was idling across the street, in front of the Robinson place.

Sitting in the driver's seat was the man. The one that kept turning up around her. She had no idea who he was, or why he always seemed to be around these days. She had tried to dismiss it as coincidence, although he made her uneasy.

But this? People didn't just show up in West Ashley. It was a quiet neighborhood, sparsely populated. What was this guy doing here?

Goosebumps appeared, although it was over eighty degrees. Katherine climbed into her blue Volkswagen, avoiding looking back. She headed down the street at at least ten miles over the speed limit.

Cranking down the window, she tried to settle her nerves. _Forget him. He doesn't know where I'm going. It's okay._

After ten minutes, she reached the docks. Popping the trunk, she pulled out her kayak and the collapsible oar. Katherine maneuvered the little boat into the water, then shoved off, her mind settling a little as she paddled towards Morris Island.

Finding a little dock near Schooner Creek, Katherine tied off the kayak and began hiking, checking her map occasionally. Technically she was trespassing, but no one policed the empty island or the lighthouse she was looking for.

Finally, she found it. The Morris Island Lighthouse had been out of use for years and was now closed. A red-and-white shell of a building, standing alone over the land. The door was locked, but a few kicks proved that it wasn't locked very well. She was inside in under a minute.

She could hear seagulls rustling somewhere high above as she scaled the stairs, legs burning from the long climb. The windows in the side were cracked or glassless. There was evidence of water damage on the walls and floor. Everything reeked of birds and saltwater. The place was a bit of a fixer-upper.

Reaching the watch room, she took another staircase to the gallery at the very, very top. The view up there didn't disappoint. She could see all the way to Fort Sumter. The town of Folly Beach spread in front of her, tiny in the distance, the buildings seeming almost like toys. Closer were the ruins of Fort Wagner on Morris. She wanted to stand there forever, soaking in everything she saw.

She must've stayed up there for at least twenty minutes, using her binoculars to try and spot any wildlife. Nothing of interest. Disappointing, but not surprising. Besides, nothing would top the eagles. _I can't wait to tell Abby!_

She climbed back down to the watch room. After examining the seagull nests, she was ready to go when she heard a sound.

The door of the lighthouse had slammed shut.

"It's just the wind," Katherine muttered to herself. But then she heard a shuffling sound from far below. _Is someone in here?_

No one knew where she was, but it definitely sounded like footsteps. If it was the police after a trespasser, they would have announced themselves by now. The intruder was silent. Katherine's mind flashed back to the man in the car.

Pulling out her journal and pencil, Katherine wrote urgently, heart pounding, body drenched in cold sweat.

 _I think someone is below. I don't know who it is, but I'm afraid. No one should be out here but me. I'm going to stash my journal just in case. Maybe I can hide._

Shutting the notebook, Katherine quickly lifted the grate and shoved her bag inside, the journal enclosed within. _Just in case._ Then she looked around frantically. Below her, she heard the sound of footsteps getting closer and closer. Whoever was in here was heading up the stairs, towards her. She was completely defenseless.

Could she escape to the lens room? No, they would check there next. There was nowhere to run. She was a sitting duck. A fish in a barrel. _Oh God, what's going to happen to me?_

The door creaked open.

"Who's there?" Katherine shouted, trying to sound brave.

The man from the car entered, clad in black. He was young, in his early twenties. Tall, broad-shouldered, with a hawk-like nose, close-set eyes, and short black hair. Katherine recognized her stalker instantly. "You!" She stepped back. "What do you want from me? Why are you here?"

The man looked at her with calm dark eyes. "You ask too many questions, Katherine Heaton."

"Why the hell are you following me?" Katherine demanded. "Who are you?"

The man stepped forward. "I'm Hollis. And you're in my way."

"What do you mean?"

Hollis pulled out a gun, pointing it at her. Katherine backed up quickly, cowering against the wall.

"Again with the questions."

"I don't even know you!" Katherine whimpered, tears escaping. "Please, just let me go. I'm only sixteen."

Hollis smiled coldly, aiming his pistol directly at her head. Faces flashed through Katherine's mind. Auntie Syl. Her father, killed less than a year before. Her mother, long dead. Those eagles on Cole Island. She had never told Abby what she found. _She would've been so happy..._

Then Hollis, the last face she would ever see. Determined. Remorseless. He was going to kill her without an ounce of regret. No one knew where she was, no one would find her body, and no one would ever learn what happened to her.

Hollis flicked off the safety. "In your next life, mind your own business."

Katherine looked over his shoulder, out the window, wanting to look at something besides the gun barrel that seemed to grow larger and larger. She saw the rippling ocean reflecting the bright blue sky, stretching as far as she could see. Gulls cawed and soared over the waves. Boats floated in the harbor, unaware of the the murderer of the lighthouse, of the last few seconds of Katherine's life. It was beautiful.

She closed her eyes.

The gunshot was the last thing Katherine ever heard.


End file.
